


Gift Wrapping

by Lys ap Adin (lysapadin)



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Light Bondage, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-28
Updated: 2013-08-28
Packaged: 2017-12-24 23:11:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/945791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lysapadin/pseuds/Lys%20ap%20Adin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takao has really outdone himself this time.</p><blockquote>
  <p>Kazunari is a font of endless creativity. Shintarou knows this for a fact, but sometimes even he is baffled by Kazunari's ingenuity. He feels that he has good cause for this, because every time he thinks that Kazunari can't possibly surpass himself again... Kazunari does. Truly, it's a mystery how he does it.</p>
</blockquote>
            </blockquote>





	Gift Wrapping

**Author's Note:**

> Adult for smut. When I was taking porn prompts over on Tumblr, [](http://branchandroot.dreamwidth.org/profile)[](http://branchandroot.dreamwidth.org/)**branchandroot** prompted me for MidoTaka and ribbons, and here we are as a result of that. Takao likes to feel pretty, okay? 1814 words.

Kazunari is a font of endless creativity. Shintarou knows this for a fact, but sometimes even he is baffled by Kazunari's ingenuity. He feels that he has good cause for this, because every time he thinks that Kazunari can't possibly surpass himself again... Kazunari does. Truly, it's a mystery how he does it.

This, though. Shintarou stares at Kazunari, caught somewhere between disbelief, bemusement, and lust, because Kazunari really has outdone himself this time.

Kazunari smiles at him, sunny. "Welcome home, Shin-chan!" He takes no apparent notice of the fact that he is splayed across their bed like a gift— _very_ like a gift, because he is festooned with loops of red ribbon that cross and recross his torso and wind down his arms and legs, which are spread wide against the white sheets. He's tied to the bedposts, in fact. Four jaunty bows wave gaily at Shintarou from the bedposts, and lengths of red ribbon stretch taut between these bows and Kazunari's wrists and ankles. There's one more bow, too, which Shintarou can't quite keep himself from staring at. This one rests at the base of Kazunari's cock, which is wrapped around with another narrow length of the same vivid ribbon that winds around Kazunari's hips and dips between his thighs in intricate, mysterious ways. There's a familiar wedge pillow beneath Kazunari's hips, too, and his knees are flexed and spread wide. His overall intentions could not be clearer if he'd made a bullet-pointed poster to illustrate them.

Shintarou realizes that he is staring only when Kazunari laughs. "Cat got your tongue?" He waggles his eyebrows, which seem to be one of the very few things on his body that he can move freely at the moment. "See anything you like?"

It is such a patently ridiculous question that Shintarou ignores it—Kazunari can surely see his reaction from the sudden tightness in his slacks. He asks a far more pressing question instead as he begins to strip out of his suit. "How in the world did you do this?" Kazunari's skills are astonishingly broad, but this seems altogether improbable, even for him.

Kazunari grins, watching with open interest as he undresses. "I'll never tell."

This is unlikely to actually be true, because there is nothing Kazunari likes more than to share a good joke. "I see," Shintarou says, hanging his clothes over the back of the chair. "I suppose I won't be able to convince you to change your mind."

Kazunari's laugh is full of sheer delight—he loves it when Shintarou plays along with him, which is why Shintarou has learned how to do it. "You're certainly welcome to try."

"Mm." Shintarou eyes the arrangement of the ribbons and opts to climb over the foot of the bed. He crawls up its length, prowling between Kazunari's legs, and traces a finger along one of the ribbons that wind up his thighs. The red of it glows against the sheets and Kazunari's skin, and Kazunari's muscles jump and shiver beneath his touch. "I guess you have some ideas about what it is that I'm supposed to do with you now." He reaches Kazunari's hips; the fifth bow rustles a bit as Kazunari's body reacts to his touch.

"One or two," Kazunari says, the timbre of his voice changing and dropping. "You want me to tell you about them?"

Shintarou runs his palm up Kazunari's side, stroking it over warm skin and silk, and leans over him. "No, I think I'll improvise."

"That's good, too," Kazunari says, right before Shintarou lays claim to his mouth. He opens up to the slide of Shintarou's tongue, answering it with an eager sound that makes Shintarou wonder just how long Kazunari has been lying in their bed and waiting for him to come home and find him. The thought is a good one, and it puts an edge on the heat already twisting through Shintarou. Just like that he knows precisely what he wants to do with the offering Kazunari has made of himself.

He runs his mouth along Kazunari's jaw and kisses his throat when Kazunari tips his head back. He takes his time with it and hides his smile against Kazunari's pulse when he tries to move and the ribbons keep him from doing it. Kazunari moans then, softly, and something like a shiver runs through him when Shintarou trails his fingers along the edge of one of the broad ribbons crossing his chest. "You're up to something, aren't you?"

Shintarou raises his head to look at him while he follows that ribbon down Kazunari's side to the place where it meets either another ribbon or itself coming back around Kazunari's ribs. He changes the direction of his touch, skating his fingers across Kazunari's stomach to another one of those places where there is an intersection and twist of two ribbons meeting, before sliding his fingers back up Kazunari's sternum. Kazunari's chest moves under his fingers as his breath hitches, and it's only then that Shintarou answers him. "It would be a shame to rush after you've gone to all this trouble, don't you think?"

Kazunari moans again, husky. "Fuck, yes," he breathes, eyes gone bright. "You go right ahead and take your time, Shin-chan."

He'd already planned on doing that, but it's good to know that Kazunari approves of his idea. Shintarou stoops to kiss him again and then applies himself to the task of tracing his fingertips over the winding paths of each ribbon twined around Kazunari's body. The ribbon is silky beneath his touch, crisp in contrast to the softness of Kazunari's skin, and woven and knotted around his arms and legs and torso in bewilderingly complex patterns. Shintarou follows the way the ribbons spiral up Kazunari's arms and down his legs and traces each intersection up and down Kazunari's chest.

Kazunari gives himself over to this and makes delighted sounds beneath his hands, especially when Shintarou's touches drift closer to the ribbons that wrap around his cock. He watches Shintarou, eyes hot and bright, and laughs whenever Shintarou fails to follow those particular ribbons to their logical conclusion. "You're just about out of ribbons," he says at one point, bringing it up like it's a dare.

Shintarou simply raises his eyebrows. "What's your point?" he asks, right before he leans down to begin retracing his path along each of those ribbons, this time by running the tip of his tongue over the skin bordering them. It is _entirely_ worth it for the way Kazunari's groan sounds deep enough to have come up from his toes.

By the time Shintarou has tasted the insides of Kazunari's elbows and mouthed the inside of his thighs, kissed the hollow of his throat and outlined each of the twists of ribbon that march down his chest, Kazunari's skin is slick with sweat that darkens the scarlet of the ribbons to crimson. He's shuddering beneath Shintarou, panting for breath and gasping his name. He moans when Shintarou finally draws a fingertip along the ribbon wound around his cock. "Fuck, Shintarou, _please_..."

It's always an accomplishment to reduce Kazunari to such bluntness, and so Shintarou takes satisfaction in his handiwork even as he's reaching for the nightstand and the bottle of lube there. He's rather past the point of wanting to wait much longer himself, if truth be told.

Kazunari arches taut in his ribbons when Shintarou strokes him open with slick fingers; he groans, open and wordless, squeezing his eyes shut as Shintarou works his fingers against him. He says, "C'mon, go ahead, I need you," even before Shintarou expects him to, given his knowledge of how eager and impatient Kazunari can be. When he hesitates over this, Kazunari opens his eyes and fixes them on Shintarou. " _Please_ ," he says. "I'm going to die if you don't get inside me _right now_."

"That seems highly improbable for a young man in your good physical condition," Shintarou says, using his most proper doctor-to-patient tones, the one that always makes Kazunari laugh, but he doesn't waste any more time after that in slicking his fingers over his cock. The bows at Kazunari's ankles come undone easily when he tugs on them, and the loosened ribbons pool around Kazunari's thighs when Shintarou hooks his hands behind Kazunari's knees and pushes them up. Kazunari groans, the sound breathless with anticipation, until Shintarou pushes into him. His groan breaks off into a sharp cry then as he drops his head back against the pillow, shuddering as Shintarou sinks home.

Shintarou can't even muster the breath with which to groan, because the incredibly tight grip of Kazunari's body has driven it right out of him. He leans over Kazunari, shaking almost as much as Kazunari is, and can hardly think for the heat of Kazunari wrapped tight around him and the sight Kazunari makes beneath him, spread out and wound round with red ribbons, all purely for him. It's too much to possibly be real, to be _his_ , and yet it is—Kazunari opens his eyes and smiles at him, soft and full of wonder, like he believes that _he's_ the lucky one. "Shintarou," he breathes, soft, and that's all.

That is enough—more than enough. That's everything. Shintarou whispers Kazunari's name back to him as he begins to move, holding Kazunari's knees spread wide as he rolls his hips against Kazunari, and he can't take his eyes from Kazunari as he does. Kazunari is as transparent about showing his pleasure as he is in anything else, and his expression flickers and shifts with every movement Shintarou makes, echoing the little cries that rise out of his throat as he loses himself in his pleasure, until Shintarou finally drives into him at just the right angle. Shintarou groans as the ecstasy sweeps over Kazunari's face and his body wrings even tighter around him, following him over that edge without a second thought. The pleasure shakes them both relentlessly, long shudders that run on and on, and it is forever before Shintarou stills again, holding himself over Kazunari's breathless, messy sprawl. When Kazunari smiles at him then, sweet and open, the only thing Shintarou can do is lean down and kiss him again, struck speechless with all the things Kazunari makes him feel.

(It's not until later—much later, when he is helping Kazunari untangle himself from what must be a half a kilometer of soiled red ribbon—that Shintarou thinks to ask again. "Just how _did_ you do this?"

Kazunari laughs. "Isn't capitalism _amazing_?" he asks. "You can find a professional who can do _anything_ for you, if you're willing to pay for it." He grins while Shintarou is still figuring out what he means by this. "And it was worth everything I spent on it, too."

Although Shintarou sputters a bit over this, he can't honestly bring himself to disagree.)

**Author's Note:**

> My common sense compels me to note that you should not try this at home, dear reader—at least not without taking certain safety precautions that omitted here—and that you should certainly not allow yourself to be tied up and then left alone, no matter how sexy that scenario is in fiction. Ahem.
> 
> Comments and kudos are always lovely!


End file.
